CHAPTER NINETEEN

CAUGHT BETWEEN TIDES

No rest, no respite.

The clouds swirled above us as we rode towards Dai’s estate. We took the side roads between the rice fields, not the main road where the Anyu army was marching through. It soon opened up to the riverbank, where I could soon see the dock behind Dai’s house.

“What’s the plan?” Cho asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Sneak around the back, try to break everyone free while they’re distracted?”

“Doesn’t sound like a very good plan.”

“You got anything better?”

He laughed, urging his horse faster. He enjoyed this sort of thing, the complete opposite of his brother—not a worrier, but someone who grew bolder the more you threw at him. You needed that sometimes, when you had nothing else. Cho’s face grew serious and turned my head from him to the single figure standing at the edge of the bank, seemingly waiting for us. The weight of the last few days fell away, replaced by relief that exploded like a warm hearth from deep inside.

I found myself dismounting from my horse. Khine walked up to me without a word, and I didn’t stop him as he held me with the strength of a man who thought he had lost me for good. As much of a betrayal as it seemed, it felt right to wrap myself up in his presence, to feel his lips on my head and the beat of his heart against my ear. Like I needed nothing beyond this, and the whole world could fall apart in a sea of arrows and dragon-fire around us.

I allowed the illusion to continue a moment longer before I pulled away.

“Tali,” he managed. He turned to his brother. “Cho. I’m glad you’re both well.”

“Are the Anyus at the gate?”

He nodded.

“My guards?”

“Still imprisoned,” Khine said.

Cho snorted. “Why aren’t you?”

“He set me free a few days ago to work on his daughter’s injuries.”

“Akaterru—she survived all of that?”

“Barely. I believe she got caught on one of the buttresses. The dragon had twisted her leg beyond recognition—I had no choice but to amputate it. They said you rode north. We weren’t sure you’d survived.” He took a deep breath. “You escaped the Anyus?”

“I want nothing to do with either of them,” I said in a low voice. “Sharks, the both of them. Kaggawa. Anyu. Cut from the same cloth, no matter what they say. I am done with it. I will save my son myself.”

He smiled grimly. “Daring words, but how do we start?”

“Get me to my guards first.”

We walked all the way through the courtyard and strode down the staircase in the alcove behind the kitchen. There was a single guard on the door to the basement, a tense-looking servant who immediately stood up straight at the sight of us. “What are you doing here?” Khine asked, drawing close to the man.

“Sir?”

“The Anyus are attacking, didn’t you hear? They need every man out there!”

“I was told to stay here in case—”

“You’d rather wait for them to come and hack you to pieces? Those are royals out there. We’re commoners. You know what that means, don’t you?”

The man’s eyes widened before he stumbled off in haste.

“What does it mean?” I asked Khine, as soon as the guard was out of earshot.

“I’m not sure myself,” Khine said. “Would’ve had a hard time following that train of conversation. But we got what we wanted, see?” He held out the key, which he had pilfered from the guard.

“You’re going to have to teach me that one of these days.” I watched as he unlocked the door. “You’ve heard about everything, I suppose.”

“Ah, yes. It was all everyone could talk about.” We went down the steps, leaving Cho to keep watch outside. Khine cleared his throat. “You are still queen,” he reminded me. “You may not have to do this alone. Is there anyone else in Jin-Sayeng you can turn to? Did you think the weight of who you are disappears overnight?”

“The entire council would disagree with you there.”

“The title—they can take that away. But it doesn’t change how you were raised.”

“You know little about how I was raised.”

He cleared his throat. “Perhaps I don’t. Enlighten me.”

“It is more than about blood and pushing your weight around. There are tenets we follow, values carried down by every family or clan. We give ourselves names, too. A falcon of the Ikessar values pacifism, knowledge, and diplomacy. A Baraji civet implies someone with wit who uses cunning to shift the winds to their favour.”

“A Baraji civet? That doesn’t exactly roll off the tongue.”

I smiled. “Kyo-orashi’s crest is the giant mud crab.”

“That—all right, that’s worse.”

“Then you have the Jeinza, who use the image of a ship’s anchor on their banners. They value tradition, goodwill, and harmony, and have been strong supporters of the Orenar clan—so as long as we remember to put the good of Jin-Sayeng over ourselves. Which has never been a problem, though the rest of them think otherwise.”

“Because the Orenar, as head of the Oren-yaro, are honourable beyond question.”

I grimaced. “It isn’t honour.”

“What is it, then?”

“It is hard to explain in simple words if you aren’t born an Oren-yaro yourself. Only within the Oren-yaro have our tenets managed to transcend into an ideal that has shaped an entire region. It wasn’t easy to get that far. Our warlords have created a reputation over the years as harsh and unrelenting, but such behaviour would’ve reduced us to tyrants if not for one thing: we strive to be the very personification of these tenets ourselves. And so you have these values that the royal clans share with the common people, which gives them pride, which is dangerous.”

He halted in his steps. “I don’t understand.”

I shrugged. “It’s simple. I have no power if I am not supported by my clan. After all of this, especially after Rayyel’s announcement, it would be all too easy to accuse me of putting too much importance on my own needs. On frivolities.”

Khine’s face flickered. “Your son’s life is a frivolity?”

“You see my fear, Khine?” I paused to stare at him. “I am not here as queen, not anymore. They’ve made that easy for me, at the very least. I am here as Thanh’s mother, because I need help to save my boy, politics be damned.”

“What about Rayyel?”

I stared at him, knowing what I knew. His expression betrayed nothing. Even the question came off nonchalant, uttered by a concerned friend. Too good of an actor, Khine—if Cho had kept his silence, I would’ve missed it. I hoped I was just as good.

“Sorry,” he quickly said, before I could reply. “I suppose it’s a foolish question.”

“I will always…” I began.

He drew a sharp breath.

I turned away. “I loved my father, too. I still do. And yet I knew what he was, and the more I find out about him, the more distasteful the idea of being his daughter becomes.” I paused, lowering my voice to a faint whisper. “It is painful, Khine. Painful to have all this love I cannot fully throw myself in, to have it exist within a sphere that belongs only to me. I cannot take comfort from it, cannot hope to be understood. The only time I’ve ever known love that I could wrap myself in, that I could get lost in, was with my son, and even then…” I trailed off, finding that we had reached the end of the hall.

There was a single cell at the furthest corner. Agos was leaning on the bars, hands hooked through the metal, long shadows dancing on his face. “You’re safe,” he breathed at the sight of me. “We heard all sorts of things from the guards, but they wouldn’t confirm either way, the fucking bastards.”

Nor got up from her seat to draw close to him. “They said you are no longer queen. Lord Rayyel claims Prince Thanh isn’t his.” Her face was like hard steel.

“After everything that has happened, Nor, you really don’t think—”

“Talyien,” she said evenly. “Is there truth to this claim?”

“Leave her alone,” Agos broke in. “She’s had enough to deal with. This isn’t the time.”

“It never is,” Nor continued, striking him on the chest to push him back and give her space. She reached through the bars to grab my arm. “Talyien.”

“He has reason to doubt it,” I said at last.

“Damn you,” she said.

“Captain Nor—”

“My daughter is in Oren-yaro, too, Talyien! If they kill your son, you don’t think they’ll slaughter the rest of the Orenars?”

“You can’t save anyone if you’re stuck arguing here,” Khine said, his voice jerking me back to reality. Nor roared in frustration, finally letting me loose. I stepped back as Khine unlocked the cell. We strode up the steps leading out of the dungeons in silence, one that broke at the sight of Cho grappling with two men right outside. I started to draw my sword when I heard someone sigh.

“What did I tell you?” Dai asked, appearing at the yard. “A royal, through and through.” He drew his sword and went for me.

A lesser man would’ve been down on the ground with a slit throat in an instant.

But I had seen Dai fight. I knew his reputation, and didn’t want to stake my life against it. Instead of going for my dagger, I turned to flee. I was hoping either of my guards would engage him first, which would give me a chance to strike in my own time. Dai was way too big for me to face directly.

I saw Yu-yan soldiers in the distance, headed by Huan, who had blood pouring from inside his helmet down both cheeks. He cut a terrible figure against the sunlight, no different from any of the blood-drenched warlords from our sordid history, and I thought he would simply rush in and finish all of us without thought. But he paused at the sight of me.

“Lady Talyien!” Huan roared. “You’re supposed to be back in the city!”

“This is a surprise,” Dai said with a shadow of a smirk. “What’s the plan, then? You take on the whole nation by yourself?”

“If I have to,” I replied evenly.

“I thought you were simply allying yourself with your own kind,” Dai continued in a low voice. “I had no idea you were a fool, too. I never did understand you royals.” He craned his head towards Huan. “Your chosen queen, the decision sealed with a blood pact between the warlords—your own father included. Yet the instant her missing husband decides to show his face and announce her a traitor, you stumble over yourselves to be the first to claim the prize.”

“Don’t pretend like you’re not an ambitious dog yourself, Kaggawa,” Huan said, his voice seething.

“I have never denied what I truly want,” Dai said. “Someone has to keep an eye out for this land while you royals are busy tearing each other apart for the smallest scrap of meat.”

“Is this why you’re playing hero? Commoner rabble like you?”

“You’ve got a head wound, Anyu,” Dai called. “My commoner rabble caused it, I’m sure. Better get it checked before your brains leak through your eye sockets.”

He glanced at his men. They lunged—not for me, not for Huan, but for Khine.

I froze, too stunned to react. Khine’s neck was between two naked blades.

“Stop!” I bellowed, just as Huan lifted his hand to order his soldiers to attack.

“With me now, Beloved Queen,” Dai said, drifting close to squeeze my shoulder. I resisted the urge to strike him. “And you, Anyu brat—I’m sure the last thing you want is to report that you got Talyien Orenar killed because of some hasty decisions.” He whistled. I saw more of Dai’s men appear at the fringes around Huan.

“You won’t deny me my guards, I hope,” I told Dai. “You do want my cooperation.”

He nodded. His men dragged Khine down to the riverbank just as the rest attacked the Yu-yan soldiers. Agos and Cho strode through the sound of clashing swords and screaming men. I noticed Nor hanging back.

“Captain,” I said.

She gave me a look, one sharp enough to carve a hole in the pit of my stomach.

No, I thought. I’m down to four people, Nor—please.

“Captain,” I repeated. “Nor.”

“I don’t think I can do this anymore, Talyien,” she said. “If you’re not queen…”

“We’re still family. I will find a way to save my son, and no harm will come to your daughter.”

“You can’t promise that. You don’t know what’s happening to your own nation. You don’t even know yourself.”

“Nor, please.”

She didn’t move. Watching her make that decision felt like forever. I wanted to drop to my knees to beg her not to turn on me, too. The feeling was followed by a twinge of shame. Was this how far I had fallen?

Yeshin’s voice flared inside my head, that crack of lightning.

If you had stuck to your path, girl…!

“Cousin!” I could hear the anguish in my own voice.

She turned away like I didn’t exist, drew her blade, and sank it into the nearest man. Dai’s. She was throwing her hat in with the Anyus. I was nothing to her now. I had done this. My own inabilities, my failures…

It must’ve all happened in a flash, because I felt Dai squeeze my shoulder again. “Now, Talyien, before I change my mind and your lover stands a head shorter,” he growled.

I didn’t have time to respond to his choice of words. I followed him down the steps to the riverbank, silently counting the number of men he had. There were six—too many for us to take at once, not when Agos was my only reliable swordsman left.

The path led to the entrance of a tunnel, held up with half-rotten beams and pillars. It looked like it had been there for some time.

“I don’t see why you’re so worried, Queen Talyien,” Dai said as we stepped into the shadows, where it smelled of damp and moss. “My agents are on their way to Oren-yaro as we speak. Your treachery aside, I will stick with my agreement—your son will be rescued, and not a moment too soon. After what your husband just did? His life hangs on the balance.” He retrieved a lantern hanging from a pillar and held it out.

I blinked as warm orange light flooded the cave. I could now see that the tunnel led straight to a rocky overhang, overlooking what appeared to be part of the river. I caught sight of a boat bobbing along a small dock below, where a silent figure sat. A woman. I recognized Lahei, and tried to hide my surprise at seeing her alive.

“Beloved Queen,” Lahei said. “The preparations are ready. This can take us to the underground river systems, deeper into the heart of the Sougen.”

I swallowed. My eyes skipped towards her right leg, which ended in a bandage-wrapped stump. She stared at nothing, blood seeping through the cloth. There were dark hollows under her eyes.

“You left my daughter for dead,” Dai said grimly.

“So I did,” I whispered. I turned back to him. “Is this what you want, then? An eye for an eye?”

He glanced at Khine, who looked almost calm for someone with swords a hair’s breadth away from slitting his throat.

“You know what I want,” Dai said in a low voice.

“My son and I as hostages. Yes. You can see why I didn’t exactly warm up to the idea.” I swallowed. “Should I offer my own bargain, Kaggawa? Point out a chink in your armour? I have no desire to explore this region any more than I already have. I want to go back home, to Oren-yaro.”

There was hardly a flicker of concern on his face. “I’m not sure what else you’ve got that I’d be interested in.”

“I know about you, Dai Kaggawa. I know you’ve got two souls in that body. You know I’ve heard it, too—that change in your voice, the way you swing from irritable to complacent. Our daughter, you said once. Did you think I’d miss it?”

I had been expecting a bigger reaction and was sorely disappointed that he didn’t even seem concerned. He leaned back, crossing his arms in front of him. A shadowy expression flashed across his face for a moment. “Irritable,” he said at last, in that softer voice. “I love that. You do have a way with words, Queen Talyien.”

I swallowed.

It was his turn to grin. “Were you expecting me to change? Ah, but I think we’ve had enough excitement for today.”

“After all the trouble you went through to convince me of the sort of situation we’re dealing with…”

Dai walked over to Lahei, a thoughtful look on his face. The expression accentuated the dimples in his cheeks. He paused to press her arm. “I do love it here. There is so much to get attached to.”

“Oh, Da,” Lahei murmured.

A moment of silence followed. “This other you—you,” Khine broke in. “You’re not born here.”

Dai nodded towards his guards, who took a step back, giving him room to breathe.

Khine rubbed his hand on his neck. “I figured it from the way you talked. You lapse into a non-native accent when you carry that voice.”

I blinked. “I didn’t even catch that.”

Khine shrugged. “It’s something you pick up when you’ve had to learn to speak Jinan like I did.”

“I was from the Kag, in fact,” Dai—or at least, what appeared to be the other Dai—replied. “From Hafod. I was born there a long time ago, and I died there a long time ago, too. So no—I am not exactly like these corrupt creatures. I am well aware of what I am, and what Dai gave me.” He paused for a moment, drifting into thought, before laughing. “Well. He wants a quick correction. I forced myself in, but Dai was gracious enough to let me stay.”

“I still don’t understand the difference,” I said.

“This happened a long time ago,” he continued. “Well before the destruction of Rysaran’s dragon. I am not part of whatever foulness resulted from that. The reason I was drawn to Dai was…personal. My soul remains intact.”

“I believe him,” Khine said. “The other thing, the one that spoke to me in the village, felt different.”

“You’d leave this up to feeling?” I asked, trying to keep the horror from my voice.

Khine sighed. “Like you, I’ve suspected as much with Dai. It couldn’t be a coincidence that he was acting so strangely, especially in a world where these incidents seem commonplace.”

“You must have such a poor impression of our nation.”

“Don’t I? There’s time to play tourist later.” He grew serious. “That other thing back in the village was…sinister. Foul is a good word for it. The way it spoke sent shivers up my spine. You know that feeling, don’t you? When you’re around someone and everything they say rings empty—you’re just listening to how they string words together, words that don’t even fit. Like a coward babbling on at sword-point. This one…” He glanced back at Dai.

“Myar,” the old man replied. “Since we’re on the subject, my name is Myar.” His eyes were sparkling blue now, iridescent.

Khine nodded in acknowledgment. “Myar, you speak with the intent and grace of someone who not only lives in this body, but belongs to its world. You aren’t occupying it simply to further your life or drink in its experiences. The cares of Dai are your own. His daughters know about you, and love you as an entity separate from Dai. No—they are your daughters, too. They consider you a second father.”

The old man broke into a grin. “I appreciate the observations, Khine Lamang. But you are wrong. I am here for all those reasons, and more. I lost my life far too young, and Dai’s was…so tempting. It’s why I’ve never left all these years.”